Hey, Miss Hilton
by Freakish Feline
Summary: Yazoo has his eyes set on Loz, and not even Kadaj can persuade him from his lustful chase. Alternate Universe, Major OOCs, SMUT! Lemon in following chapters, and a huge helping of crossdressing and weird fetishes. Yaz x Loz!


**Author's Note:**

This is NOT a serious fic. It's a dirty, raunchy piece of filth. It has all the plot of a Cinemax soft-core porno. Manporn is the only mission behind this pitiful excuse for literature, and i think it's serving it's purpose well enough.

Expect 3-4 chapters, with drag!Yazoo towards the end. Yes, that's right, drag!Yazoo. So, unless you gets your rocks off on Yazoo bent over in a schoolgirl outfit begging to be punished for 'her' misdeeds, you should leave. Now. Yeah.

Yazoo, Loz, and Kadaj are property of Squeenix. I just rape them.

"Hey, Miss Hilton" is copyright the Pen15 Club, while 'La La' belongs to Ashlee Simpson. Both, in turn, have sold their souls to the record companies and music labels. I cannot be blamed if their music (in conjuction with YouTube AMVs) makes me spawn godforsaken things. You've been warned.

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**Chapter One: You make me wanna la-la...**

Yazoo leaned over the wooden rail of their fairly immaculate porch, rolling the paper cone of a half melted snow cone between his fingers, the bloodred, cherry syrup staining his lips from the fleeting bites he had taken moments earlier. What little interest he had in the sickly sweet confection had completely fled him, his attention slipping onto much more…interesting things. In the driveway, Loz was stretched, shirtless and soaking wet, over the hood over the black sports car shared between the three brothers. It's surface was nothing short of pristine; a true testament to the care Loz had put into it, spending most of his free time tending to the automobile like a fickle lover.

Yazoo chortled at the thought; a thick, sultry laugh that resonated deep within his throat. Brow raised, he couldn't help but entertain the idea that he might be jealous of the automobile, as incredulous as it may seem. After all, it was the one that had Loz' toned, well muscled chest pressed against it, slick with sweat and water. Flecks of soap marred the smooth flesh, which was noticeably darker than Yazoo's, though still almost creamy in complexion. The elder brother couldn't quite fathom how he managed such a perfect balance between a tan, and the near deathly pale that the siblings were hereditarily predisposed to, but it was delectable to the sight.

Absentminded, he drew his abandoned snow cone to his lip, extending his tongue out to lap at the now watery slush. Tendrils of saliva mixed with the ice-flecked goo, glistening and clinging stubbornly as he drew the slithering pink protrusion back into his mouth. As if unaware of the sensuality of the action, he flicked the very tip lightly in an effort to knock them away, eyes still trained ever so loyalty on the rippling muscles of his younger brother's back.

"Nnngh." It was barely a gasp, as Yazoo's body rocked with sudden shivers. His hand closed tight around the paper cone, the force sending waves of red washing over his thin fingers. With a near wild look, he tossed the crumpled wrapper to the side, letting it fall onto the lawn some yards away. He leaned a little further onto the railing, as if craning to get a better view of his brother. He didn't seem to hear the footsteps behind him, nor did he make any move to hint that he might feel Kadaj's stifling presence leaning in the open doorway.

"Need I remind you…" The youngest sibling spoke, his voice tense, but not overly stern. "That that is our brother you're ogling."

Yazoo made no movement to speak, simply drawing his cherry-stained middle finger to his lips, sucking away the sticky residue. His eyes never wavered from Loz, who had now stretched himself to wash the top of the car, blissfully unaware of his older brother's driven stares.

"Does that not bother you?" Kadaj said flatly.

"Why should it?" Yazoo finally offered in response. He sounded unaffected, and almost dazed. "Brother or not, it doesn't change the fact that I could ride him better than anyone in this town."

Kadaj sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Do you listen to yourself speak, Yazoo?"

"Only sometimes." He breathed, before suddenly hoisting himself over the railing that had previously been supporting his weight. He landed deftly on the ground, with only a slight shuddering thud as his booted feet met the grass.

Kadaj watched him stride towards Loz silently, his steps slow and calculating. There was a certain swivel to Yazoo's hips that made him almost want to admit that his brother could be downright seductive, should the moment suit him, but no. He pushed those thought from his head with a shrug, with the simple reasoning that he didn't suffer from the same…indiscretions…as his brother, and as such, there was no reason to entertain such thoughts.

It was almost a pity that Yazoo lacked such tactful judgment, Kadaj noted to himself. The careless manner in which the eldest of the three brothers acted was bound to get him into trouble someday, and it was a sight he wasn't keen on witnessing, even if the man might deserve it.

"Loz…", Yazoo whispered throatily, bringing his delicate hands up his brother's sides lightly. He could tell from the slight feel of the flesh shivering between his fingertips that he had caught his brother off guard. He pressed lightly against his sibling from behind, hiding a smirk against the warm flesh of the taller man's exposed shoulder.

"Are you going to spend all afternoon washing the car?", he asked, breathing a wisp of warm, moist air that tickled Loz and caused his skin to crawl, not unpleasantly.

"No…" Loz said in return, as if the question were the silliest thing he had ever heard.

"Well, you're taking too long." Yazoo sounded almost cross, but in reality, he wouldn't have cared if Loz had extended the chore through most of the night. It was a far better show than anything on TV, that was for sure. He was just tired of being left on the sidelines. He wanted to _play_, damn it.

"Am I?" Loz' reply seemed shaky, and Yazoo was not oblivious as to why. He had moved in closer, as if his body were making decisions of it's own accord, and he now had his brother packaged neatly between himself and the car, leaving the short haired man very little space to move.

"Mmhmm. So I'm going to help you finish."

He reached out, trailing still vaguely sticky fingers up his brother's left arm, grasping for the thick, soapy sponge that now idled just above the driver's side window. Grasping one end of it, he squeezed lightly, letting the sudsy water spill down both their extended appendages, the water glistening on Loz' exposed skin, while it caused Yazoo's thin white t-shirt to cling tightly to his own chest. He felt Loz quiver, and while he was not too headstrong to realize it was likely the cold water that had sent the sparks through the other man's body, he enjoyed it all the same, savoring the moment before slowly slipping the sponge out of Loz' grip completely. He let a few more soft breathes fall onto the back of his brother's neck before he drew himself away, at an almost painfully slow pace.

With calm, almost leisurely strides, he looped around to the back of the car. Leaning over the trunk, he tossed his head to the side, all of his brilliant, platinum hair cascading down one side to rest on his left shoulder. He moved the sponge deliberately over the smooth surface of the automobile, as if each thrust of his arm outward were a calculated effort on his part. His slender digits dug deep into the rough surface of the sponge, water squelching out with every light squeeze.

Slowly, he leaned upwards, drawing one knee to rest on the car, his other leg straight as a board as he began washing away flecks of dust from the windshield. Delicate muscles twitched beneath his increasingly soaked shirt. He could feel both his brothers eyes on him, one in amused judgment, the other in speechless shock. He bit his lower lip, letting his eyes fluttered closed, fully aware of the provocative way he wad displaying himself. As if to reward his efforts, Loz let out a deep groan, one he had obviously tried to stifle, and one that he quickly masked with a slight cough.

"Loz, you should rinse the car before the soap leaves spots.", he murmured, letting his weight rest further against the cool black metal. His eyes flickered open after a moment, staring intensely into the same matching orbs, which belonged to his dear younger brother. Loz' hand twitched around the spray nozzle of the water hose, which had been hanging very limply in his grasp since Yazoo had started his display.

"Well…?", Yazoo prompted, head tilting to rest at an angle.

His stomach coiled as Loz realized his brother had no intention of moving. Shifting uneasily, he held his breath, and aimed the nozzle, a quick rush of icy water escaping with a hiss a moment later. It washed all along the back of the car, splashing up to meet with Yazoo's body, sending noticeable shivers down his slight frame. The few semi-dry portions of his shirt were eradicated, the entire thing now very heavy with water, transparent, and clinging possessively to his flesh. Tight jeans seemed to grow tighter, the weight of the liquid pulling the heavy fabric to rest without protest against his sculpted legs. Despite what should have been a discouraging rush of cold, a particular bulge on Yazoo's body had become all-too-evident with the shift in his clothing. Loz glanced away, a childlike shyness playing in his suddenly flushed face.

"Something wrong, brother?", Yazoo practically purred. He shifted onto his hands and knees, crawling across the back of the car until he was poised over the edge, less than an arm length from where Loz stood. He reached out, grasping his sibling's chin between his fingertips, easing him closer with only that touch. His lips curled in a warm smile, though an obvious flicker of smug self satisfaction graced his face. He shifted upwards to rest on his knees, letting his free hand fall to Loz' broad shoulder, face hovering less than six inches from the other man's. The point of the jaw beneath his touch was reminiscent of his own, Yazoo briefly noted, though a little more broad and demanding than his own delicate features. It didn't surprise him. They were after all brothers, and shared so many striking similarities, from their breathtaking platinum hair to their peculiar blue-green eyes; eyes that Yazoo noticed were staring into his with a wave of emotion. His hand twitched, itching to draw his brother closer still, but he never got the chance.

From the porch, Kadaj had emerged from his silent observation. He had long since shifted from his resting place against the screen door, body now erect, and he looked more than a little annoyed with the situation. He cleared his throat, the rolling growl jerking Loz from whatever spell Yazoo had managed to cast over him, and he looked flustered for the experience.

"It's getting late. We should go inside." Loz murmured softly, his eyes flickering away. Yazoo pried his eyes away from his muscled treat, eying Kadaj with a sort of contempt that rarely graced the man's features, and was certainly nothing he had ever cast on his own kin before. The unusualness of the gesture made Kadaj's blood run cold, but he ignored the sensation, merely making a motion to the from door with his hand.

"Loz, you're covered in soap. Go rinse off."

Loz paused, frowning, but eventually nodded in obedience. He slipped away from Yazoo, who's touched still burned on his chin, even though the long haired man had long since relinquished his hold on him. He didn't say a word to Kadaj as he passed him, heading into the house, but he was inwardly grateful towards his brother for breaking up the scene. The sight of Yazoo sprawled across the car so seductively unnerved him, as did the stirring in his groin it had prompted. He realized those were taboo thoughts, mulling on them even as he progressed up the stairs, but Yazoo made it very hard not to think them. Heaving a sigh, he slipped into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Outside, Kadaj was resisting the urge to tear into his brother.

"Why are you bothered? If you had really cared, you would have spoken up earlier." Yazoo's voice was flat, as usual, though his words housed a certain tenseness only barely detectable past his calm front.

"Would it have done any good if I had said something?" Kadaj retorted, arms crossed.

Yazoo thought on this a moment, before sighing. "What are you worried about? I know it can't _possibly_ the sin of the situation."

Kadaj snorted. His brother was right; the last thing he cared about was what others thought of the circumstances. No, it was a little more personal.

"Have you stopped to think that this may not be in Loz' best interest?"

"He's a grown man, I'm sure he can decide what's best for himself." He waved his brother's words away dismissively. "And it seemed to me like he enjoyed it well enough."

Kadaj scowled. "He trusts you." It was a statement that spoke volumes. "He trusts you, and would be quick to jump blindly into something that he'll only later regret once his own brother satiates his selfish lust, and flutters away."

Yazoo sneered. "Do you really think me so low, Kadaj?"

"No." Kadaj shrugged. "I simply don't trust your judgment when you're so obviously lusted."

Yazoo paused, leaning his head forward to gently ring out his soaking hair. He simply listened to the water drip on the pavement, thinking until the light pitter of droplets died out, before returning upright with a sharp flick of his head, damp hair splaying out in an unruly fashion around his face.

"Kadaj…", he began, his voice much more sedated than his previous attempts at speech. "As you've said, he is my brother. I love him." He shrugged, as if this were the most obvious fact in the world. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt him."

With that, he simply slipped past his brother, pausing only briefly in the doorway as he turned his gaze fleeting back to the man.

"I know how sensitive Loz can be."

Then, silently, he disappeared into the house. Kadaj sighed, staring out into the dying red of the slowly setting son, lost for the moment in his own thoughts.


End file.
